Forget Me Not
by GirlNextDoor
Summary: Clark suffers amnesia, but what is the cause? And how can he get his memory back? He must answer these questions before he exposes his secrets to his friends, and himself. Completed!
1. Prologue

2

Forget Me Not

Prologue

When Martha arrived home after work, Clark was in the loft, busily reading a book for a quiz the next day. Martha never really nagged Clark about doing his homework. He was a good kid and always got it done on time. Besides, if he was a bit behind, it didn't really matter, especially considering he could probably do the whole years worth of homework in a split second.

Clark glanced up when his mom entered.

"Hey Clark." Martha said, ruffling his hair. "Hurry up with that book. Dinner is ready and I don't want it to get cold."

"Didn't you, like, just get home?" Clark asked

"It's takeout. There's a new restaurant on Main Street. They sell all sorts of exotic food." Martha said "Tonight we're having Chinese."

"Ok. I'll be finished in a second." Clark said. Martha smiled. He meant it literally. To anyone else, it would have looked as if Clark was just flicking the pages of the book. In reality, he was reading at about 100mph. True to his word, a second after he spoke, he set the book down on the side table, completely finished, and followed Martha out of the loft.

When they got into the kitchen, the smell of rice, fish and some other anonymous aroma hit Clark full on.

He had tried some Asian food before, but the scents all mingled together was enough to make Clark seriously think about running back up to the loft.

Martha noticed the sick expression on her sons face.

"I know it smells a bit strong all together, but you'll like it." Martha encouraged.

After sitting down and fumbling with his chopsticks for a while, he gave up and put one chopstick in each hand, picking up the food between them.

He looked at his mom, who did not look impressed, but Jonathan was clearly trying to hide a smile.

After dinner, Clark was feeling a little woozy, probably due to all the raw fish, so he got up and threw away his empty cartons.

"I'm gonna go to bed now." Clark announced "I'm feeling a little tired."

"Ok, Clark" Jonathan replied

Clark stumbled out of the kitchen and into the hall. He was feeling really strange now. Maybe he just had to lie down.

But Clark hadn't even reached for the banister before the wave of dizziness overpowered him, and he collapsed, unconscious, at the foot of the stairs.


	2. Forgotten

Clark slowly opened his eyes. He was lying on a couch, by the looks of it, in someone's living room. He had no idea how he got there, but he could hear two voiced talking quietly in the next room.

The voices stopped and a man and a woman entered the room. They both looked about early to mid forties. The woman knelt down beside the couch, her face etched with concern.

"Clark?" She said quietly "Clark are you feeling OK?"

Clark just stared at her, confused. He had no idea who these people were, or why he was in their home. He didn't know who this 'Clark' person was, either.

Then the man kneeled down next to the couch.

"Clark?" He asked "Say something, son."

"Son?" Clark asked "So, you're my dad?"

The man and the woman stared at him in disbelief

"Clark?" Asked the woman "Don't you recognize us?"

Clark just stared at her in confusion. By now, he had figured out that this 'Clark' person they kept referring to was probably him, and if the man was his father, the woman was probably his mother.

"Uhh… Mom?" Clark guessed. The woman turned to the man.

"Jonathan, I think he has amnesia!" She said

"Oh, you think?" Jonathan snapped. It was clear he was upset... And who could blame him. If it was true that Clark was his son, it would be upsetting for anyone to have their son look at them like strangers.

Clark got up off the couch.

"Are you my parents?" Clark asked

"Yes" Said his mom. She looked as if she were about to cry. Jonathan turned to her.

"Martha, maybe it's nothing a good night's sleep can't fix." He said to her

_So my mom's name is Martha _Clark thought _Martha and Jonathan. That does sound sort of familiar_

"Clark, I want you to go to bed now." Said Jonathan "Maybe in the morning, you'll remember everything."

Clark nodded. He started out of the room, when he stopped, realizing he had no idea where his bedroom was, if he even had a bedroom. He turned around.

"Uhh… where do I sleep?" he asked, realizing how strange it must sound to his parents. It all seemed so unreal. Martha looked at him sadly.

"Up the stairs, second door on the right." Martha said, sounding as if she were telling a guest where to sleep. In reality, she sounded a lot calmer than she felt. "The bathroom is beside it. You're toothbrush is the red one"

As Clark left the room, Martha let her head fall into her hands. Jonathan sat down beside her and put an arm around her shoulders.

"Shhh" He comforted her "It's all going to be OK."

"How, Jonathan? How is it going to be OK?" Martha asked between sobs "he has no idea where he is! He has no idea who we are! He probably doesn't even know about his abilities! Now tell me how it's going to be OK?"

Jonathan stared at his shoes. Deep down, he knew it wasn't going to be OK. It was true. Clark probably didn't even know that he was "special".

"How do you think it happened?" Jonathan asked, breaking the long silence

"What?" Martha asked, raising her head

"What do you think happened to give him amnesia?" He asked again

"I don't know" Said Martha, her eyes drifting over to the empty food cartons. What she _did_ know she had to get her baby boy back.


	3. Surprises

Clark trotted down the stairs the next morning, feeling rested and energized, but still completely clueless. Martha was in the kitchen, frying bacon and eggs, and Jonathan was at the table, reading the paper. For a moment, Clark thought he remembered something, a time like this long, long ago. But then he blinked and it was gone. _Must have just been wishful thinking _Clark thought, and sat down opposite Jonathan.

"Hey, son" He said, folding the paper and putting it down on the table. "Remember anything?"

"No" Clark replied, and his parents sagged

"Well, I guess we weren't really expecting it anyway." Martha said, putting bacon and eggs on the three plates on the table. Clark cleared his throat.

"I… have some questions." He said tentatively

"Go ahead, Clark." Martha said, reaching across the table and holding his hand in hers.

"Uhhh… what's my last name?" Clark asked. He couldn't imagine how strange it sounded to poor Martha and Jonathan.

"Kent" Jonathan replied. Clark didn't know if Jonathan was the type to cry, but the odds were he wasn't. Now, it looked as if he were about to break that record. "Your name is Clark Kent."

"Ring any bells?" Martha asked, still holding on to her son's hand

"Not really." Clark replied, disappointed

"Anything else?" Martha asked hopefully

"How old am I?" Clark asked

"Seventeen, we think." Martha replied, then made a face as if she wished she hadn't.

"You think?" Clark inquired

"Well, you were adopted, sort of." Jonathan said carefully

"Sort of?" Clark asked. Martha turned to Jonathan

"Jonathan, we have to tell him." She said

"Martha…" Jonathan started to argue

"Jonathan, he could hurt someone. He has to know." She insisted. "It might even bring some of his memory back."

Jonathan sighed and turned to Clark.

"Son, there's something else." He said

"What?" Clark asked

"Well, you're different," He started "You can do things that other people can't do."

"What, like magical powers?" Clark asked, trying not to laugh at the idea. Jonathan glanced at Martha.

"Sort of, but not really." Jonathan said "Come with me, son" Jonathan and Clark stood up and went out the front door.

Clark didn't know where Jonathan wanted to take him, or what he meant by saying he was different. If he was honest, the most surprising thing he had discovered about himself that morning was not that he was adopted, or even Jonathan's comment about the magical powers (mainly because Clark had no idea what he was on about). No, it was finding out that he was only seventeen. For some reason, he felt much older. Jonathan stopped walking, and Clark studied his surroundings. They were standing in a barn with a pile of hay-bales in one corner, and a large green tractor in the other. Along one wall was a bench with farm tools and a radio on it. There were stairs leading up to what looked like a hayloft.

"What are we doing in here?" Clark asked

"Clark, why don't you go pick up that tractor…" Jonathan said. Clark blinked. He wasn't sure he'd heard right.

"Excuse me?" He asked

"Go lift that tractor over there." He said, as if it were an everyday thing

_Ok, now I know I heard him right _Clark thought_ Maybe Jonathan isn't exactly all there…_

"Uhhh…" Clark said, not really knowing what to say. When Jonathan continued to stare at him, he sighed and walked over to the tractor. He didn't know what Jonathan was expecting, but if the only way to stop him staring was to cooperate, then that's what he'd do.

Clark walked around the back of the tractor and placed both hands under the rim. He was slightly amused, but curious also, so he lifted both hands up, as if to pick up the tractor.

And he did.

Clark's jaw dropped in awe as he lifted the tractor up and over his head as effortlessly as if it was made of Styrofoam. He twirled it around a few times as if to test himself, then set it back down. He lifted his head and stared at Jonathan in amazement.

"How did I do that?" Clark asked, walking back over to his father

"Like I said" Jonathan replied simply. "You're special."

Clark thought for a moment. "Can I do anything else?" He asked, still incredulous.

Jonathan nodded, amused at his son's amazed reaction at his abilities, despite the seriousness of the situation.

"Can I fly?" Clark asked hopefully

"No, son" Jonathan shook his head. Clark looked disappointed. "But let's go back inside and I'll fill you in."


	4. Suspicion

Clark sat on his bed going over the conversation with his dad in his mind.

_So there's the strength _Clark thought_ The speed, heat vision, hearing, X-ray vision and I'm invincible_

Clark had been skeptical at first. It had all seemed so unreal The idea that he could do so many things was at first too much to handle. But after several demonstrations aided by Jonathan, and some old encyclopedias that were now a pile of ashes behind the barn, Clark had abandoned his skepticism and replaced it with awe.

Clark sighed. He exited his bedroom and plodded down the stairs. Martha was sitting at the kitchen table, and beckoned for him to come over when she saw him.

"Clark" She said when he seated himself opposite her. "I've called one of your friends. He's going to come over, and maybe it'll give you some of your memory back."

"Ok." Clark said, still a little depressed. "What's he like?"

"Well, you've been best friends since kindergarten" Martha replied

"Does he know what I can do?" Clark asked

"Yes," Martha said. "But you can't tell anyone else. He's the only one apart from us."

Clark nodded. "Mom, there's something else." He said

"What is it, honey?" Martha asked, giving Clark a warm smile

"Do you know how this happened?" He asked bluntly

"No Clark. Your guess is as good as ours." She answered "You were fine when I got home last night, just reading a book in the loft. Then we came in to have dinner. You got up afterwards to go to bed, and fainted." Clark thought for a minute.

"What was I reading?" He asked, seeing a possible suspect, but not sure how.

"Uhhh… the Catcher in the Rye, I think." Martha replied "It's probably still up there if you want to go look."

Clark nodded. _Nothing suspicious there_ he thought. Then another idea hit him.

"What did we have for dinner?" He asked

"It was takeout." Martha answered. "From a new restaurant in town. Sushi, rice, other bits and pieces." She stopped, slowly realizing what he was thinking. "You think that may have something to do with this memory loss?"

"I don't know," Clark said. "Maybe. You said it was new. Did we ever get food there before?"

"No," Martha said "It only opened last week."

Clark raised his eyebrows. It was a long shot, but they could just have a lead.


	5. Reunion

Pete knocked on the door of the Kent's house. After a few seconds, it was pulled open and he was greeted by Clark. He smiled.

"Hey, Clark" He said, trying to keep the pity out of his voice and his eyes. If this Clark was the same as the old Clark, he wouldn't want to be looked upon with pity.

"Hey, uhhh…" Clark glanced down at his hand where he had written the names of his friends during the discussion with his dad. Damn. There were two guys names. Oh well, he would just have to guess. "Lex?"

Pete smiled a half-smile. "Pete, actually." He said, extending a hand. "But nice try."

Clark accepted his hand and shook it. He stepped outside and closed the door behind him. They started walking towards the loft.

"Man, I can't believe it," Pete said, finally breaking the silence. "Do you have any idea how it happened?"

"I don't remember anything," Clark replied "But Mom filled me in. Apparently, I was in the loft, then Mom came home, we had dinner, then I got up, and collapsed."

"And when you woke up you didn't remember a thing?" Pete asked. Clark sighed as they reached the barn and started up the stairs to the loft.

"Pete, I think my memory loss may have something to do with what we had for dinner last night." He said. "It was some weird Asian food, from a new restaurant in town. We'd never been there before."

"That's kind of a stretch isn't it?" Pete asked, sitting down on one of the cardboard boxes filled with old clothes Clark used for seats.

"I don't know." Clark said. He glanced around. "So this is my loft. I have good taste."

Pete tried to smile, but failed miserably. Although Clark's comment was intended to lighten the mood, it only gave Pete the familiar feeling of pity, which he tried to disguise, but he couldn't help it creeping back.

"So have your folks told you about… certain… talents?" He asked, hoping he hadn't just let the cat out of the bag for something his parents weren't ready to tell him yet. But his fears were short-lived.

"Yeah," Clark replied "They said you know about me, right?"

"Yeah" Pete answered

"Pete," Clark said "Do you know if I'm allergic to anything? Anything that might have caused my memory loss?"

"Well, there is one thing," Pete started "Did your parents tell you about the meteor shower?"

Clark nodded

"Well, the meteors that came down then, have a sort of weird affect on you." Pete continued "You sort of go all pink and dizzy, like your going to throw up. If it goes on for too long… you faint."

"Pete, that's it!" Clark exclaimed "The food must have some meteor stuff in it!"

"Woah, there's one problem with your theory." Pete said

"What's that?" Clark asked, disappointed

"If you had eaten any of that stuff, you'd probably be… er… dead." Pete said, wishing he hadn't put it so bluntly. Clark's eyes widened.

"Wait, I thought you said I just fainted?" He asked, confused

"Yeah, if you're exposed to them," Pete said "You don't have to eat them, you just have to be near them."

"Only just around them?" Clark asked in disbelief

"Yeah, I don't know what happens if one touches you, but if you ate one…" Pete trailed off. The sound of Pete's words gave Clark the chills, but he pressed on anyway.

"But what if there was just a little bit in the food?" Clark asked "or just the essence or something?"

"I dunno," Pete answered "I guess it's worth a look. You wanna go now?"

"No," Clark said "It's been kind of a big day for me, and it's only midday."

"You want me to go?" Pete asked

"No, I'd sort of like some company." Clark said.

"Sure," Pete answered, then seemed to remember something, and reached inside his jacket and pulled out a small rectangular bundle. "I, uh, brought these over. Thought they might spark some memories or something."

"What are they?" Clark asked. Pete unwrapped the bundle.

"Photos" He said


	6. Reminiscence

Clark seated himself beside Pete.

"I can't believe I didn't think of this sooner." He said

"Tell me if you recognize anyone" Pete said, and showed him the first photo.

It looked like a school photo, taken of a class of about 25. Clark scanned the faces, but none of them looked familiar, apart from Pete's, of course. Clark shook his head. Pete sighed.

"Ok, how about I tell you their names, and you try to remember them?" He asked

"Ok," Clark agreed. _Sounds simple enough _He thought.

Pete held up a photo of four teenagers standing on a pier in front of a lake. There was a pretty blonde girl with short choppy hair and a big smile. Beside her was a tall handsome boy with dark hair, wearing a long-sleeved plaid shirt and jeans. Next to him was a girl with long dark hair and brown eyes. And last was Pete, a short little guy with dark skin and a cheeky smile.

"This is Chloe," Pete said, pointing to the blonde girl "She's your friend, and you sometimes help her out with the Torch, which is Smallville High's newspaper."

Clark nodded.

"And this is Lana. She owns a coffee shop in town called the Talon." Pete said, deciding not to tell Clark that he sort of had a thing for her. "And that's me, but I guess you already knew that."

"Who's that?" Clark asked, pointing to the tall boy with the plaid shirt who Pete hadn't yet named. "Is he one of my friends?"

Pete's expression was one of half pity and half disbelief. "Clark, that's you." Clark said, amazed that he had not yet seen what he looked like.

"Really?" Clark asked, staring at the good-looking teenage boy in the photo.

"Yeah," Pete answered "Are you surprised?"

"A little," Clark replied "It's just…"

"What?" Pete asked

"I look so normal." Clark said, studying himself in the photo. "How long ago was this taken?"

"Only last summer." Pete answered, checking the date written on the back.

"I had a feeling I was much older," Clark confessed "But apparently I'm only seventeen."

"Yeah, welcome to the perils and pitfalls of adolescence." Pete said, clapping him on the back.

Clark checked his watch. "1.30." He said "Maybe we should head down to the restaurant now."

"Yeah?" Pete asked. "What exactly are you gonna say? 'Hi, I'm Clark. I ate your food and lost my memory. Any comments?'" Clark flinched.

_Good going Ross! _Pete thought _Can you say tactless?_

"Sorry." Pete apologized.

"No, you're right." Clark said "I can't go straight to them. It's not like they'd tell me if anything was off with their food anyway." His gaze fell on the pretty blonde girl in the photo.

"You say she works for a newspaper?" Clark asked. Pete nodded. "So she's a reporter?" Pete nodded again. He glanced back at the girl in the photo.

"Can she help us?"


	7. Promises

Chloe glanced up from her computer as Pete and Clark entered the _Torch_ office .

"Hey guys," She said. "Come to help me with the last-minute rush? I could really do with another pair of hands." When neither of them answered, she looked back up, knowing instantly that something was wrong. Pete was looking at Chloe very seriously and intensely. Clark was looking around, confused and disorientated, as if he were seeing the place for the first time. Chloe frowned.

"Guys? What's wrong?" She asked, switching off her monitor and standing up, worried.

"Chloe, Clark's got amnesia." Pete said bluntly. Chloe blinked.

"What! Are you serious?" She asked, looking from Pete to Clark and back again. Pete nodded.

"Oh my god!" She cried, rushing away from Pete and towards the dazed-looking boy, who was studying something written on the palm of his hand.

"Clark?" She asked, not really knowing what else to say.

"Uhhh… Chloe?" Clark guessed. He hoped he had gotten the names right this time.

Chloe stared at him for a few seconds, grasping for the right words. Finally, she spoke.

"How?" She asked, blinking back tears. "How did this happen?"

"That's why we came here." Pete said, calling Chloe's attention to the other side of the room. "We need your help."

"With what?" Chloe asked.

"We think there may have been something in the food I ate the night before I lost my memory." Clark said

"We need you to help us prove that." Pete finished

Chloe's brain switched from distressed friend to go-get reporter as soon as the words left Pete's mouth. She sat down at her computer and switched the monitor back on.

"I can't help you with anything unless I know the name of the place," Chloe said, opening a webpage. "Or at least a decent description."

"According to my mom, it's called Global Cuisine, on Main Street." Clark said.

"Oh, I know the place," Chloe commented. "Is it new?"

"Yeah, just went up last week." Pete answered.

Chloe sighed, closing the webpage she was looking at.

"You know, call me cynical, but I really don't think a main street restaurant are going to display the probability of memory loss on their website." She said, and Pete and Clark sagged.

"But, if you can get me a sample of the food, I can probably get it to a lab in Metropolis to be analyzed." She finished. Clark brightened.

"The packets are probably still in the trash at home!" He said.

"Well, get me a sample of everything you had last night, and you may be in luck." Chloe said, then, convinced her job was done for the moment, switched back to distressed-friend mode.

"Clark, I still can't believe this happened to you!"

"Yeah, we're all pretty shocked." Pete said. "His folks are dealing with it pretty well though."

"Well, that's one thing at least." Chloe said. "Any idea what was in the food to cause this?"

"We're thinking traces of Kry-" Clark started.

"Meteor Rock." Pete cut in. "You know how it has weird effects on people." Chloe looked worriedly from Pete to Clark, frowning.

"Well if it is," She said. " It might not only be a matter of memory loss."

"What do you mean?" Clark asked, intrigued, although he knew he should stay away from the subject.

"Meteor rocks have strange effects on people, Clark." Chloe said. "Mainly… physically. But it gives people… abilities as well."

"Abilities?" Clark questioned.

"I've seen countless meteor freaks here in Smallville." Chloe said. "I'd check out the Wall of Weird if I were you. There's records of everything there, from shape shifters to dichotic school boys."

Clark didn't know what the Wall of Weird was, but he had no desire to check it out, much less carry on this conversation. He was already treading dangerous ground


	8. Reassurrance

Clark sped in the front door, coming to a bit of a messy stop in the kitchen, stumbling and almost falling over one of the chairs. The last five seconds had been surreal, as that was all the time it took for him to get from outside the Torch office to his home. Clark was surprised at how easily all this stuff came to him, i.e., the use of his powers. If what Jonathan had told him was true, then it had taken him years to learn how to control his powers, and after only half a day, he had almost mastered all of them. It was strange, but in the end, Clark put it down to the fact that he had already learnt it once before, even if he couldn't remember it.

He turned to Martha, who was still doing their budget at the kitchen table.

"I need the containers that our food came in last night." Clark said, not the least bit breathless, even though he had just run about ten miles in record breaking time.

"Uh, they should still be in the trash still, I think." Martha replied. Thrilled, Clark dashed over to the trash can in the corner of the kitchen, and began searching through it. Almost straight away, he found some old rice cartons, chopsticks and plastic sushi containers. He pulled them out, but his hopes were dashed when he opened them and discovered them spotless. He turned to Martha, confused.

"These are clean." He said. Martha looked up.

"Yes, I washed them." She said. "Can't leave them in the trash with all the bits and pieces still in it. It'll bring the rats."

Clark sagged. "No…" He moaned under his breath, plopping down in a chair opposite Martha.

"What's wrong Clark?" Martha asked, regretting her stupid question as soon as it left her mouth.

"I needed the food in those cartons." Clark said. "Chloe was going to get it to a lab in metropolis, to have it analyzed. They could've found out what caused this."

"Oh, Clark. I'm so sorry!" Martha gasped. "If I'd have known…"

"It's ok mom," Clark said. "That's it, you _didn't_ know."

"But are you sure that's a good idea, Clark?" Martha asked, suddenly concerned. "Chloe will know the results before either you or Pete do. What if it turns out it has meteor rock in it?"

"That's what me and Pete think." Clark replied. "What else could it have been? According to dad, I could knock back a pint of gasoline, and feel nothing. It must have been meteor rock."

"But what if Chloe finds out your secret?" Martha asked. "Not many people lose their memories from eating meteor rock."

"Maybe not, but it's a risk I have to take." Clark said. "And anyway, according to Chloe, meteor rocks _do_ affect other people."

"Just so long as you can hold onto that excuse when the results come back." Martha warned.

"Well, now there might not be any results." Clark said, making Martha glance guiltily at the spotless containers.

"You know, you could go and get some more food at that restaurant. I'll write you out a list of what we had last night." She said "It's likely that our food wasn't the only ones contaminated with meteor rock."

"Well, it's worth a shot." Clark said reluctantly, then he sighed. "Mom, what if I can't get my memory back?"

"Clark, you're strong," Martha said. "And not just physically. You may be able to pick up tractors, but you can also pull through this. There hasn't ever been anything you haven't gotten through before, and this will not be the first."


	9. Recollection

Clark stopped the truck outside Global Cuisine and hopped out. It was strange, for the loss of all his other memories, he hadn't forgotten how to drive.

As he entered the restaurant, rage boiled up inside him. Clark was usually an even-tempered guy, but it was because of this restaurant that he had lost all his memories of his childhood, his friends, and he couldn't even recognize his own parents. That was inexcusable.

He approached the counter, trying to keep his voice flat, resisting the temptation to set the cashiers hair on fire, who was smiling at him from behind the counter.

"Hi can I help you?" She asked, clenching her teeth in a huge, fake smile.

"Yeah, can I please get a small chicken fried rice and a small sushi to go?" He asked in a dreadful, sickly sweet voice, and cringed. Obviously, he was trying much too hard not to yell at the cashier. Clark smiled a little. _Like father like son _He thought _At least I didn't totally lose my cool at some poor telemarketer and tell him exactly where to put his high-quality inkjet cartridge with photographic paper (only $89.95). _Upset as he was, Clark couldn't help grinning a little at the memory.

What? The memory?

_Did I just have a memory? _Clark thought wildly. He searched his brain for it again, desperate to prove to himself that it was a real memory, not just wishful thinking. No, there it was again. He could see it more clearly now. Jonathan yelling, red-faced, down the phone line. Martha, staring at Jonathan, shocked, a half-basted chicken on the bench in front of her. Little Clark, equally as shocked, forgetting his game of trucks and getting ready to start crying.

Clark couldn't believe it. A memory! Perhaps he was cured! He racked his brain for more memories, but after a few seconds, he was convinced that it was the only one, and he sagged, a little disappointed.

The cashier took his money and handed him his order. Clark took it and left the shop, suspended between ecstasy and disappointment.

Chapter Nine – Acquaintance

Clark entered the _Torch_ carrying cartons of rice and sushi. Pete and Chloe looked up hopefully, relieved to see that Clark had the food to be analyzed. While Chloe sent a fax to the lab in Metropolis, Clark took Pete out into the hall. He thought the matter could get very messy if Chloe started asking questions.

"Pete, I had a memory!" He blurted out.

"What? Really?" Pete asked, amazed. "So… you're alright now?"

"No," Clark said "It was only one memory."

"Well what was it?" Pete asked

"I must have been about four." Clark replied. "We were all in the kitchen and dad was going nuts at some telemarketer."

Pete smiled, then frowned. "That doesn't really sound like your dad. Are you sure it wasn't just wishful thinking?"

"No, it was definitely a real memory." Clark replied.

"Well, that's something, at least." Pete said, clapping Clark on the shoulder. Clark opened the door and they went back inside the _Torch_.

"Ok, well, I sent the fax, and I should get one back soon, maybe late this afternoon." Chloe said, turning around to face them. "If I do, I should be able to get the samples off by morning, which means, if we're lucky, we might get the results back by tomorrow evening."

"Wow, so soon?" Clark asked. Chloe clicked her pen.

"There's no time like the present."

Clark walked out of the Talon with a warm cappuccino in his hand. Pete had driven home, and offered Clark a ride, but he wanted to try running again. He would obviously have to find a slightly more discreet place though. He turned around to walk away, and nearly smacked into a man who was walking in his direction, splashing coffee on his expensive-looking black trench coat.

"Oh no, I'm so sorry!" Clark exclaimed

"Hey, don't sweat it." The man said. "It was an accident."

"At least let me buy you a coffee." Clark said, feeling in his wallet to make sure he had enough money.

"You don't have to do that…" The man started to protest.

"Please, it's the least I can do." He extended his hand to the man. "I'm Clark Kent."

But instead of shaking his hand, the man drew back, puzzled.

"Clark, are you feeling OK?" He asked. Clark just stared at him. The man stepped forward and placed a hand on Clark's shoulder. "Clark? It's me. Lex."

In a flash of realization, Clark's eyes darted down to the palm of his hand where his list still remained. Blurry and a bit faded from when he washed his hands, but still readable.

People I Know: 

Lana Lang  
Pete Ross  
Chloe Sullivan  
Lex Luthor

Lex Luthor! Damn! He's gonna think I'm crazy! Should I tell him? No, there's no point. I'll just make something up.

"Lex! I, uh, didn't recognize you!" He invented. It was such a lame excuse. This guy had a rather distinguished look about him. "Did you get a hai – is that a new – the sun is really … sorry. I've been kind of out of it today."

"Clark, are you _sure_ you're feeling OK?" Lex asked. He wasn't buying it.

"Yeah, of course." Clark said, a little shaky. If he blew this, it would mean telling yet _another_ person about his memory loss, which would mean more questions, more covering up, more suspicion, and coming one step closer to finding out Clark's _real_ secret.

"Ok…" Lex said, a little confused. "Um, you take care then…"

"Will do… Lex." Clark said, remembering his name just in time. Then he turned and hurried away, leaving Lex staring after him.


	10. Aquaintance

Once Clark had found the large group of pine trees leading into a cornfield, he stood just inside the entrance, getting ready to run.

The thick trees and overhanging pine branches posed a possible obstacle for Clark, but hopefully his reflexes would be as fast as he was.

Seemed simple enough last time. Just start running. His alien genetics would do the rest. Clark started off at a slow jog. Nothing happened, so he quickened his pace a little. Still nothing happened, so he started running at a medium-fast pace, and suddenly he was off.

Dodging trees, ducking under low-hanging branches and jumping tree roots as easily as if he was walking. Then he was out of the trees, speeding through the cornfield, row after row of corn. Vault over the fence. More corn. Another fence. More corn. Speeding through the Kent's backyard. Up the steps. Through the door. Into the kitchen. Stopped.

Jonathan, who was getting some pie and a glass of lemonade, looked up when he felt a gust of wind on his face and heard a loud whoosh.

"Clark!" he greeted warmly. "How are you handling it?"

"It's amazing!" Clark exclaimed, flattening his windblown hair back down against his head. "Five seconds ago, I was in the middle of a forest on the other side of town."

Jonathan just smiled. Clark sat down beside him.

"So what are you gonna do now, son?" Jonathan asked.

"It's been a long day." Clark replied. "I reckon I'm just gonna stay here."

Jonathan nodded, then held out the pie dish to Clark.

"Pie?" He asked. Clark smiled.

"Sure, dad." He answered, cutting himself a piece. For the first time since he woke up in their living room last night with no idea who or where he was, he was starting to feel like part of a family. The Kent family.

"Dad, there's something I need to ask you." He finally said.

"What is it, son?" Jonathan asked.

"Today at the restaurant, I thought I remembered something." Clark started. "But I'm not sure if I actually did, or if my subconscious just made it up because I'm so desperate to get my memory back."

"Well, what was it, Clark?" Jonathan asked, putting down his fork, focusing full attention on his son.

"Well, we were in the kitchen. Mom was making a turkey, and I was on the floor playing trucks. I guess I was about three or four." Clark explained. "You were, uh, screaming… at a telemarketer."

Jonathan stared down at his half-eaten pie, chuckling a little.

"That's something I would prefer to forget." He said. Clark's eyes widened.

"So it actually happened?" He asked hopefully.

"Yes." Jonathan said. "You were five."

"Well, maybe if I go back there, I might remember something else." Clark said.

"Clark, I don't want you going anywhere near that place." Jonathan said.

"But dad, if it could get my memory back…" Clark started to argue.

"Clark, I don't think it's a matter of where you were when you got that memory. " Jonathan interrupted. "What were you thinking about?"

"You think that's what triggered my memory?" Clark asked

"Why not?" Jonathan asked. "They're both matters of the brain. Besides, that's what triggered your heat vision."

"Dad…" Clark muttered, embarrassed. They all knew what Clark had been thinking about when he got his first flash of heat vision in science class. (once Jonathan filled him in, anyway.) And it wasn't the periodic table.

"Well?" Jonathan pressed. "What were you thinking?"

"Uhhh…" Clark thought back to that afternoon at the restaurant. What was he thinking about? Suddenly, he remembered.

"I was angry." He said.

"You were angry?" Jonathan repeated.

"Yeah, I was thinking about how it was sort of the restaurant's fault that I lost my memory." Clark said.

Jonathan was too excited by the fact that they now had a clue as to how to get Clark's memory back, to point out that is actually wasn't proven yet that it was the food that made him forget. He coughed.

"Well, maybe that's it then." He suggested. "Maybe we've just got to make you angry."

"But how?" Clark asked.

Jonathan met his gaze. They both knew. It seemed so simple now. But would it be too risky?


	11. Revelations

"I don't know, Clark." Martha said frowning. "You know what happened the lat time you got involved with red kryptonite."

Clark's blank stare said it all, and Martha blushed.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Clark." She apologized. "I guess you don't…"

"All I know is that it affects my personality, and I go nuts." Clark said. "But if it could get my memory back, wouldn't it be worth the risk? What if there's no other way?"

"Well, it certainly does seem to make sense." Martha agreed. "But it's so risky!"

"Mom, dad will be there with green meteor rock, if things get out of hand." Clark argued.

"He's right, Martha." Jonathan agreed.

"Well…I guess it's up to you." Martha finally relented. "But Clark, Jonathan, please. Be careful."

Jonathan opened the shoe box in which he kept Clark's class ring. (encased in another box of lead, of course.) It was returned to the Torch after Clark's first little encounter, as a present to Chloe. Unfortunately, because Chloe was oblivious to the fact that the ring had to be kept in lead, every time Clark went into the Torch, he turned into a crazy person. One time, when he was particularly close to the ring, he actually yelled his head off at the principal. Lucky for him, he only received 4 weeks suspension for this, and his parents weren't mad, as they knew what happened. If anything, they were sympathetic.

Eventually, the Kent's decided it would be safer here, where they could keep an eye on it.

He took it out, holding the lead box at arms length. He looked up at Clark, who was standing only about two meters from him. He took a deep breath.

"Ok, son." He said. "You ready?"

Cark nodded, not too worried as he didn't know what was going to happen.

Jonathan snapped the box open, and Clark immediately felt different. He felt a strange sensation, not exactly happiness, but more like satisfaction, spread through his body. A feeling as if he could do anything he wanted, any time he wanted. Like the time he ran off to Metropolis. He had broken into many banks, large businesses and ATM machines and robbed them dry. Or the first time he wore his class ring. He had taken Lana to a bar on a date, and ended up leaving with Jesse, the new girl at Smallville High, who had a rather similar disposition to Clark's new personality, or the time Pete slipped a piece of Red Kryptonite into Clark's pocket, and he had revealed to Chloe his true identity. Suddenly, the memories came flooding in faster than Clark could acknowledge them. He stumbled slightly, developing a major migraine, and for the second time in as many days, he collapsed.


	12. Risk

"Clark?" Jonathan asked in a worried voice. "Clark, wake up."

Slowly Clark opened his eyes a crack, and blinked a few times to clear them, and to clear his head.

"Dad?" He said slowly. Jonathan breathed a sigh of relief.

"Martha!" He yelled down the hall. "Martha, he's awake! He's OK!"

Martha came hurrying into the Kent's bedroom carrying a cold, wet cloth which, by the feel of Clark's face, had been resting on his forehead keeping him cool.

A small, disbelieving smile crept across Clark's face.

"Mom." He said simply, but that was all Martha needed. She blinked the tears out of her eyes, and embraced her son so tight she probably would have crushed him had he been anyone other than Clark.

"Oh Clark!' She cried, stroking his hair, and propped him up against her, helping him into a half-sitting, half-lying position.

"You remember… everything?" Jonathan asked.

Clark nodded, and Jonathan couldn't help himself grinning a big, goofy grin, and joined the huddle, giving Clark a hug too, after prying him from Martha's iron-grip.

"How long was I out?" Clark asked, realizing he was no longer wearing his watch.

"Three and a half hours." Jonathan replied, setting Martha off again.  
"Oh Clark, we were so worried!" She sobbed.

"It's ok," Clark comforted her. "I'm fine now, I remember everything."

The phone started ringing, and Jonathan got up to answer it.

"Yeah, well, that may be so, but I still want to know what caused this." He said, reaching for the receiver. "People don't just faint and wake up with amnesia.

_Maybe not _Clark thought _Anywhere but Smallville, that is. _And he could tell his parents were thinking the same thing. Jonathan cleared his throat.

"Hello?" He said, then paused, and looked towards where Clark and Martha were sitting on the floor. "Chloe. Uh, Clark… isn't feeling well. Can I get him to call you when he's better?"

Clark focused his hearing so he could hear Chloe's end of the conversation as well.

"Mr. Kent, I know what's happened to Clark." She said. "But this is important. I don't know if Clark told you, but yesterday I sent off samples of the food to a lab in Metropolis to try and figure out what might have caused his amnesia."

"You've got the results back." Jonathan said. It was more like a statement than a question.

"Yes." Chloe said. "So can you please put Clark on?"

Reluctantly, Jonathan passed the phone to Clark, assuming that he had heard the whole conversation. Clark had made a habit out of eavesdropping on others calls after he discovered he could. He took the phone.

"Chloe." He said. "The lab results, what do they show?"

Chloe was obviously surprised, due to the hesitation before she answered.

"Um, well there were definitely traces of meteor rock in the food." She replied. "But the particles were so tiny, the scientists had to run the test three times before they discovered them."

"So what does that mean?" Clark asked cautiously. "Exactly how small were they?"

"Oh, you could've practically inhaled them." Chloe replied. "But they were definitely there. Meteor rock s not something you need a lot of to cause an effect."

"Uhh…"Clark stammered. This was NOT a good area to be discussing with Chloe.

"Seriously, Clark." She insisted. "Experienced any weird feats of power lately?"

Clark gave in. He was good at coming up with believable, spur of the moment excuses and cover stories; a skill perfected trough years of practice, and if he knew one thing, it was that he could not continue this conversation with Chloe. He had to clear this up; and repair the damage later.

"Chloe," He said. "I have some good news."


	13. Rememberance

After the drama of the past few days had subsided, Clark slowly returned to living life as usual. It hadn't been easy. The most difficult aspect of cleaning up the messes he made was trying to convince Lex not to call and reserve a cell for him at Belle Reeve, although he hardly thought Lex was one to judge someone's mental health.

Chloe was easy enough to handle. She just seemed to be happy that Clark was back to normal, and that she had helped.

Pete had been great. He doubted that he would have recovered his memory without his help. And of course his parents. There was only one person he hadn't patched things up with yet.

There didn't seem to be any lasting effects of the kryptonite, which was very lucky, as meteor rock effects weren't usually temporary.

Clark heard the clip-clop of hooves on the Kent's gravel driveway and looked up from piling hay-bales, a wide, goofy grin involuntarily spreading across his face.

"Lana." He greeted her warmly.

"Oh, so you actually recognized me this time." Lana teased, only half joking.

"Lana, about the other day…" Clark started.

"You don't have to explain yourself to me, Clark." Lana interrupted. 'Chloe told me what happened."

Clark's face fell.

"She did?" He asked in dismay. Lana smiled.

"Yeah, but I can't help think that there was more to it than; 'he was run off his feet with farm chores and hadn't even made full eye contact with anyone all day.'" She said.

All Clark could manage was a relieved smile. Lana looked over at the perfectly piled hay-bales.

"Well, it looks like you got through them ok." She commented.

"It's been a long week." Clark agreed.

"Well, at least it's Friday." Lana said. "Best day of the week in the Sullivan house."

Clark cocked his head, listening. No matter what Lana was talking about, to him, she was always interesting. While focusing his hearing, he picked up the song on the radio he had left on in the loft. The wind changed direction, and carried the sound of Jesse McCartney's 'Beautiful Soul' on the soft evening breeze.

"We all go out to dinner, every Friday night." She continued. 'It's tradition. Tonight we're going to some new place on Main Street. It sells sushi or something."

Clark gulped.

"Global Cuisine?" He asked.

"Yeah," She said. "It's new, Asian and un-reviewed, but it beats hamburger and fries at Denny's"

"Uh, I'm not sure about that, Lana." Clark argued carefully. "I don't think you should go there."

"Why?" Lana asked, although she didn't expect a straight answer. She was used to Clark coming up with these things out of the blue.

Clark took a few seconds to try and come up with a plausible, and possibly witty, response, but when none came, he shrugged.

"Just a hunch." He answered. Lana half-smiled.

"Story of your life." She said, digging her heels into the horses sides, and pulling gently on the reins to turn him around. She stopped, facing the long gravel driveway she was about to ride away down, then looked back over her shoulder, giving him a proper smile this time, and just before she flicked the reins, leaving Clark staring wistfully after her, she said softly;

"See you 'round, Clark."


End file.
